beyond the horizon
by gayzula
Summary: Contrary to the popular belief, The Buttercup Incident isn't the first time Chara dies. It isn't the last time either. Or, five times Chara died and one time they didn't.


**o.**

Contrary to the popular belief, _The Buttercup Incident_ isn't the first time Chara dies.

It isn't the last time either.

 **i.**

Even as a kid, Chara was a solitary creature.

Staying in and drawing rather than running around the village with the rest of their peers; reading rather than playing tag. Even outside, they preferred silence to the laughs and voices, often taking _loooong_ walks outside the village. It was like a little adventure, a shard of their private world, their and theirs only.

But there were also days, when it simply _wasn't possible_ to stay alone. Days, when there's someone lurking behind every corner - may it be an old lady having trouble crossing the road, or a kid their age suddenly interested in small talk with Chara. (For the record, words _'small talk'_ and _'Chara'_ shouldn't be together in the same language, let alone _a sentence!)_

Today is one of _those_ days.

At home, Chara's older sister brought her friends over, and Chara can't breathe with so many people in the house. They attempt to talk to Chara, which quickly turns into _an interrogation -_ just as Chara anticipated - and suddenly Chara cannot find their breath, or their voice in the throat, and everything around them turns- _just blurry and hazy and shakyandnotrightnotright_ -

Chara panics. And they do that often - over seemingly trivial _mundane_ matters - and they don't know why it happens, it just _does._

So, Chara does one thing, that makes sense to them in this moment - they leave the village and run towards the cliff - a place they visit, whenever they feel like this - feel lost - feel like a disappointment, _a failure._

They like to drink in the view - the whole village beneath them, looking so small it could fit on a palm of their hand, enclosed by golden light of the horizon. The sun looks _so big, so round_ , _so close -_ touchable - as if a mere reach of their hand is enough to get a handful of its life and glow; and the clouds swim in a red liquid, as if a drop of blood was all it took to turn the deep blue dark red. The skies look magnificent in the sunset. The strange, chilly smell in the air feels calming, the wheezing of the wind keeps silence from getting too dull, too dead.

Chara focuses on this all and feels their heart steady.

It is a simple moment, nothing truly special, one might think-but the peacefulness like that is everything Chara has ever wanted. Before they notice, a ghost of a smile settles on their face, melancholy slipping to their heart.

But, as the fate would have it, this moment of tranquility does not last long.

A moment later, a loud shout pierces through the veil of calmness, shattering it, poisoning it. "Hey, kid! What are you doing here?! Step back from the edge, it's dangerous!"

Chara jumps in a surprise, eyes wide. Quickly turning around to see the owner of the voice, they lose their balance for a moment, and before they know, they are falling.

The world slows down, an odd thought in Chara's mind, _He caused what he tried to prevent. What a fool,_ before their mind registers what's happening. A spark of fear ignites in their soul.

 _No. No. No, no, no, no no no nononono!_

It _cannot_ end like this, can it? They can't _die,_ they _don't' want to!_

Screaming from the top of their lungs, they hit the ground.

Pain.

It lasts only a fracture of a second, unbearable. The sound of their spine breaking. A strange metal taste in their mouth. The impact forces all the air from their lungs, and there they are, choking on their own blood, their insides _screaming._

Somehow, they think, their panic attack earlier felt a hundred times worse.

Their eyes are burning, and the world turns blurry, then dark, then... nothing.

The pain ceases. Dullness. A timeless void.

A thought, _I refuse to die like this._

A resolution, _I refuse to die like this._

Determination, _I refuse to die like this._

Then, the world comes back to Chara.

(Or, perhaps, Chara comes back to the world.)

A sharp inhale, a cough, and their eyes shoot wide open.

A small crowd of people already gathered. Gasps and shouts, and Chara notices how they take a step back, when they sit up, catching breath. Chara notices the looks of disbelief, of shock, _of fear._

The first time Chara dies, it is an accident.

 **ii.**

The second time, however, it isn't.

People _talk,_ and soon, the rumor of Chara's resurrection spreads like fire in the forest on a hot day in summer. People _talk,_ and people _whisper,_ and people _stare_ at Chara with those _cold eyes_ of theirs. Unsettling. Whenever Chara enters a room full of people, it doesn't take long for them to disappear. The villagers, kids and adults, avoid Chara like plague.

Even their own family turn cold towards them. Their sister's face turn white whenever Chara approaches her, voice trembling in fear. Father, though cold in his nature anyway, pretends they were never born. Not sparing them a single glance, never mentioning their name to anybody. And Mom... No hugs, (though, _before,_ most of them were involuntary-but still. They counted.) no kiss goodnight, no encouraging smile.

Chara... was never a touchy-feely person, but once in a while, it was nice to know, that _somebody_ cared.

 _Before,_ the solitude was a choice, and a manner of recharging their energy, and a way to deal with _living_ when it got overwhelming. A result of not knowing how to _talk_ to people about small, meaningless things! (Because, how could anyone want to talk about the weather, when Chara here, had been wondering about life and death and time and the mysteries of the universe before they'd learned to read!) The peace was what Chara craved, and the solitude was what offered it to them.

Now, the solitude chooses them back, and it turns into something... twisted. The whispers and stares kill their peace, and all that's left, is ice turning inside their stomach.

 _"Look! It's_ that _kid."_

 _"The one that died?"_

 _"Look at it, its eyes turned_ red."

 _"That's not natural!"_

 _"That's not normal!"_

 _"Don't be stupid, it's not human!"_

 _"Shh, be quiet! It's looking at us."_

 _"Let's go home, mommy. I'm scared."_

 _"What a monster."_

 _"The devil himself! The beast!"_

 _"A demon. With eyes like these, it_ can't _be anything else."_

When they glare at Chara, Chara glares back. When they shout and scream, Chara, previously a quiet person, starts shouting back.

And Chara thinks of climbing that cliff once again, throwing themselves down, but they quickly decide against it. Dying _twice_ in the same way would be pathetic, after all.

There are often dreams at night, too. Nightmares. Remembering the fall over and over and over again - not pleasant, trust me on this.

They don't actually feel the pain in those dreams, but the endless fall, the heart beating fast against their chest, the sound of blood rushing through their ears, that screaming, that fear, that uncertainty of not having solid ground under their feet, the impact, the abyss - all of that was _too much._

Chara cheated death, and these are the consequences.

And then, something changes in the dream, one night. The void still embracing them, but there's a sharp stab of pain at the base of their neck. The dream shatters almost immediately, Chara's eyes widening, mind pulled from a dreamscape to reality.

A familiar face, they recognize. A pair of strong hands pushing Chara into the blankets, so they cannot struggle. They also notice the kitchen knife, almost gently placed on a pillow next to their face, covered in Chara's dark blood.

 _Father,_ they tried to force out, but no voice leaves their throat, slit wide open. They choke and choke in one failed attempt to take a deep breath after another. A warm liquid drenches their body, their clothes, their bed, _his murderous hands._

 _Father, why did you,_ Chara mouths.

Their eyes _(those red, red eyes)_ plead, and then they focus _behind him,_ and, what's worse, there, in the dark, stand two shadows on a doorstep, Chara's eyes widening in recognition. They just stand by and do nothing, watching Chara's life slowly slip away, the light in their eyes fading like a star, that fades in the sunlight of the morning.

 _Mother... sister... help,_ they try to scream. Nobody hears.

And when their body numbs, their mind doesn't. Anger replaces shock, betrayal replaces fear, and something, deep inside Chara's stubborn soul, holds on even after their heart gave out.

 _I_ will not _die here, he will,_ they think, determined to grasp onto the faintest memory of their life.

And so they refuse.

They feel their injury heal within moments, heart restarting in a steady rhythm, chest rising and falling and rising and falling. No hands are on their shoulders anymore - _That bastard of a father probably doesn't think it's necessary anymore,_ Chara thinks - which prompts them to reach for the handle of the knife - _It's still warm from his grasp, when he slit my throat -_ and bury the blade between his shoulders.

 **iii.**

He lets out a surprised gasp.

Someone - mother - screams, frozen in fear, while Chara stabs and stabs and stabs, but the corpse falls to the floor, completely still.

Chara is quick on their feet.

They contemplate running after their sister, or making mother pay for watching, for not helping, for _not stopping him_ -but Chara's legs seem to have a mind of their own.

They sprint to the backyard, climb the fence, not even registering anything or anyone around-the world resembles one big shapeless blur, and Chara knows it's another one of those-and Chara just runs away, somewhere, _anywhere;_ something desperate trying to suffocate them.

Chara finds themselves later-how much later, they have no idea-climbing the mountain. People had feared that mountain, just like they feared Chara. _This, Chara, according to the legend, is where true monsters are. You are to never set a foot in those woods,_ and, _It's a vile place, poisoned with blood and ashes. If you want to wander outside the village, do it elsewhere. Understood?_

 _Fitting,_ they think sardonically, _that they called me a monster not long after this._

They reach a cave, a bottomless pit, and stare. They also think of life and death and time and the mysteries of the universe and monsters and humanity. _Humanity is a disease,_ they come to a conclusion, _a poison._ They wonder if the legends were true, after all, if magic and monsters ever existed, and, strangely enough, if they would accept Chara for the person they are.

And, _Maybe I shouldn't struggle to stay alive._

They let themselves fall down and fall asleep.

It's similar to the first time they died-it's quick enough. They hit the ground, they catch a brief flash of pain, they're dead. It's over, and it's done. Just like that.

The third time Chara dies, it is a suicide.

But death, however surreal it must sound, is a choice for Chara, an option. Not a finality.

And, trying to stay dead, when you _don't have to,_ even if you _want to,_ is a bit like trying not to breathe underwater. You might struggle for a while, buy yourself a little time, but then your lungs start burning, and your instinct of self-preservation kicks in, and, in a desperate attempt to fill your lungs with air, you breathe in the water, no matter how much you fight it.

Chara wants to die, but _doesn't_ want to, and all it takes, to give in to the temptation, is a distant thought of a traitorous part of their mind, _I want to survive._ Just a faint regret, not more tangible than a fleeting dream you barely remember after waking up.

Once again, they open their eyes, not a trace of any injury.

 _Why me?_ they think, incredulous. _Why is it_ me, _that fates have chosen to persist? Why am_ I _the one to resist death? What's so special about me? Just what_ am _I, anyway?_

In the end, they learn that monsters _are_ real, after all. And they think, perhaps, they will find their peace among them.

 **iv.**

The fourth time Chara dies, it is for the greater good.

Of course, it is also the only time they count on coming back from beyond their grave, the only time they _want_ to live to see the results of theirs and Asriel's plan. The only time they want to _live_ to the fullest, instead of _just surviving._

The thing is, as much as Chara isn't a people-person, as much as they _hate_ humanity - and 'hate' is a _very_ strong, and _very_ suitable word, for a _very_ strong emotion right there - what they lack, was compensated by their unconditional love for monsters. Chara, after all, found a kindred spirit in them. Both suffered by the hand of humanity, both were shunned, feared, and cast away like a garbage. Both were attacked _virtually for no reason._ Both were misunderstood, and none were enough to try to be understood.

Chara was called _'a monster'_ for something they don't even understand themselves - not really. And, if Chara was _already_ seen as a monster, then _damn everyone to hell -_ they might as well _become one._

Becoming a part of the royal family was the best thing that could ever happen to them. A _real_ family-not those _fakes_ living in their house, waiting for Chara to fall asleep, so they could stab Chara in the back. _Or cut their throat open._

Monsters are loving. Accepting. Friendly. They give Chara space to be alone, when Chara needs a moment of quiet and peace to recharge their energy. They don't pressure Chara into talking about meaningless things-they don't even pressure Chara _into talking._ Period. But, when Chara need a hug, or a word of affection, they are still there, waiting for Chara to open up.

Toriel putting small bits of chocolate into her pie, because Chara loves chocolate. Asgore making a golden flower tea for Chara first thing in the morning. Asriel crawling into Chara's bed at night, because that cute fluffball likes to cuddle.

So yeah, Chara loves them beyond their grave. Literally.

They even find an answer to the disturbing question from before.

 _I am Chara Dreemurr, the hope of humans and monsters, a child of the prophecy; and one day, I will find a way to break the barrier and free the monsterkind from the Underground._

So they _do._

They _really_ do find a way to break the barrier.

They will need to die, of course - a minor inconvenience - but it's not like dying stopped them anytime _before,_ right? Because, death, however surreal it must sound, is a choice for Chara, an option. Not a finality.

 _I will die and Asriel will take my soul. We'll cross the barrier, get the souls and destroy it, freeing the monsters. And then I'll come back, like I always do._

True, it was the worst one so far-slow and painful. Not a crash, not a shatter, but a poison. They thought it was over a couple of times, but it turned out it _wasn't._ No matter how much pain they endure, _more and more_ awaits them. That pain, however, is nothing compared to anguish of breaking Toriel and Asgore's hearts. Watching them cry for Chara, watching Asriel hesitate in fear.

The death itself, too, is unlike any before.

Chara isn't truly dead, more like-inside Asriel's mind. Chara isn't sure what they expected, but being actually conscious and able to communicate wasn't very high on their list of possibilities.

 _Neat._

And it is going well, too. At least until the moment Asriel decides that taking six _worthless_ human souls isn't worth the freedom of hundreds.

Screaming and shouting and demanding the control over his body, they try to fix Asriel's naïve mistake, before finally resorting to pleading and sobbing.

 _You're_ dying, _Ree! Just take their souls and run, don't just_ stand there _and take it! Asriel!_

"It's okay, Chara," he smiles through tears, gently caressing Chara's hair. It is weird, seeing their own dead body like that-so fragile, so pale. Does Chara really look _that_ vulnerable all the time?

A despairing cry, _No it's not! It isn't! I don't want you to die!_

A soft mutter, "I didn't want you to, either, sib."

And when Asriel's dust scatters in the throne room, his soul shattered, Chara can't bring themselves to return to the living. Asriel is long gone, and there is nothing left for them. Nothing at all.

Worst of all, it is Chara's fault.

Fitting, how the one time they want to survive, is also the one time they end up dead for good.

 **v.**

Or so Chara thought.

Truth to be told, they never intended to come back, but something awakens them from their deep slumber. Or, perhaps, some _body._

It's confusing, at first, what with having no soul _or_ physical body, but considering the circumstances, Chara thinks they coped pretty darn well.

There is a person, _a human,_ that, just like Chara themselves, dies but never stays dead. _Unlike_ Chara, however, they don't just pop back into life, but they can manipulate time and rewind it to a certain point before their death.

It's kind of awesome, and Chara envies the kid. Had Chara had _this_ power, things wouldn't have turned out this way. Observing their journey, Chara often wonders, what the kid would do in Chara's shoes.

(Chara gets their answer in the end, when Frisk fights Asriel, their _determination_ temporarily becoming one with Chara's. They both want to save him all the same, after all.)

And, Chara is pretty content with being just an observer. Maybe, they'd even go back to sleep soon - the monsters have found their freedom, Asriel-or rather, Flowey-though it still hurt just thinking about him, has found his peace with the world the way Chara never has, and Toriel became a mother once again. Motherhood suits her like nobody else.

It seems like everyone got their happy ending, and for Chara, that is more than enough.

Except...

Just like the kid became the savior, they turn destroyer. And Chara's soul, too, once warm, now frost and night crept into its depths.

So, Chara meets Frisk in an empty void, both reeking of ash and determination.

Chara is tired. Chara is angry. Angry at Frisk's shenanigans, angry at themselves for not stopping them, angry at every monster for being so weak.

Angry at Frisk for taking away Flowey's peace and erasing it, like it never happened. Angry for killing the last remaining peace of Asriel, however imperfect and incomplete Flowey may be.

They're angry and strong, and judge and jury and the executioner.

 _You think you are above consequences._

"Yes."

 _Exactly._

Chara is determined to become the consequence of Frisk's actions. Clutching their determined and _strong_ soul, they deliver the final blow to an empty world around an empty human, and Chara themselves is a casualty as well.

The fifth time they die is out of spite and justice.

 **\+ i.**

When Chara is awakened by a sharp sting of pain in their body, it is more than startling. The other senses hit them shortly after, overwhelming them with intense clarity. For the first time, after what seemed like decades, Chara breathes in and opens their eyes and feels-just feels their jumpy heartbeat.

 _What._

They hear the birds chirping from the distance-

 _What is happening._

-and dim light illuminates those long, slender, _familliar_ pillars. They swallow, their eyes drinking in the memory resurrected, and as their hand moves-

 _Is this supposed to be a fucking joke._

-they realize, where that feeling of wrongness comes from.

Their body feels bigger, less fragile-

Chara remembers holding their own corpse in Asriel's embrace, remembers thinking, _Is this me? That small_ breakable _thing? This pale skin, those rosy cheeks, those red,_ red _eyes? This paper doll... this person. That used to be me?_

Looking down, they see-

Dark brown skin and blue and violet and _oh!_

So _that_ is why they cannot consciously move their-well, Frisk's-body.

"Chara?" Chara feels their breath escape their full lips, wider than they used to have. "Are you there?"

Chara thinks back to the first timeline, the same words uttered by their best friend, and wants to-cry. They want to tear out their-Frisk's! Chara seriously needs to stop thinking of this body as theirs-hair, they want to jump off the roof, and they want the abyss to embrace them once again, for good. You cannot hurt in death, you know. But most of all, Chara just wants to cry.

 _Let me out! Let me out, let me out, just let me out!_

"I fought back, when you took my soul, and... I think I... took something from you," Frisk's continues, ignoring Chara's incoherent babble.

 _Why don't you let me go! Just let me die, already!_

"I'm not sure what. Not determination, though. It allowed me to rebuild the world anew."

 _You took my_ death, _Frisk. You took it away and trapped me in a prison._

"Perhaps," they nod, not really surprised by Chara's revelation. "But I can do better now. I can fix what I broke."

 _You cannot fix me._

Frisk smiles. "You don't need fixing. Perhaps healing a little," which catches Chara off guard.

 _You're... serious about this. Aren't you._

"Of course. I know you don't believe in me-don't believe _me,_ but it's okay. I regret what I've done. To monsters, to you. And I'll find a way to fix you. Asriel too."

 _I have no soul. No body._

Just what in the name of sanity _is_ Chara anyway?

"That doesn't matter. I'm going to find a way around it. You'll get to be your own person again, Chara. I promise. But first, I have a race of monsters to free and many new-old friends to meet. So live? You can help me on the way."

What the hell. _Not like I have any other option._

Feeling Frisk's smile widen and a tiny giggle escape their lips, Chara knows there's no point of return. True, it'll be a long way from here, but Chara-and Frisk-they can make it up as they go, one step at the time.

Frisk's and Chara's sigh, of course, is identical.

What a stubborn kid, Chara thinks to themselves.

The first time Chara lives, it's not their heart beating in their chest.


End file.
